


Baking Disasters

by writtenthroughtime



Series: WTT's Posts for ImagineClaireandJamie [29]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Mid-20th Century AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9399788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: Prompt: Imagine Claire trying to be the perfect WI wife for her husband doing baking and crafts and gardening and she's kind of awful at it





	1. Apple Turnovers

_“Don’t forget to lightly dust the pie crust with cinnamon and sugar before baking…”_ The voice of old Mrs. Crook echoed in my head as I tried desperately to replicate each step to making the perfect apple turnover.

“Fold dough here…” I read aloud from my splotched and stained notepad, pulling at the sticky substance, willing it to fold to my command.

“Add filling, then sprinkle flour…Ugh!” I cried out in frustration slamming my hands down on the counter. “How is this supposed to work? The dough is too sticky! The sauce with the apples too runny! What have I done wrong? Maybe it just needs to set and will be much better once baked!”

Blowing a curl away from my face, I shoved the old mixture into the icebox to chill for the required time. I sighed, scrubbing my face with my hands in exasperation. “I never should have taken leave from the hospital.”

At this statement, a quick kick to my kidney made me jump. Smiling down, I rubbed my protruding stomach.

“Mummy is not sorry little one,” I cooed. “If it were not for you making yourself known, and your daddy being so overprotective, I would still be working rotations, not going to silly meetings and pretending to be Holly Homemaker!” I said, waving my hands at the counter.

While the turnover was baking, I quickly cleaned the kitchen in hopes of surprising my soon to be home husband.

“Claire?” I heard his voice call from the door.

“In here!” I replied as I finished wiping up the last of the flour from the counter.

As he entered the room, I couldn't help but smile as his eyes rolled back along with his head and a pleasured groan escaped his lips.

“What are ye making, mo nighean donn?” he growled, wrapping me up into a hug from behind, his hands curving protectively over the baby.

“Mm, apple turnovers. Old Mrs. Crook decided to give us a baking lesson this morning and I've been craving it ever since. I hope you don't mind.”

He buried his face in my neck breathing deep. “I dinna mind in the slightest. It makes ye smell even sweeter.”

I turned in his arms and kissed him sweetly. His hands dropped to my waist, lifted me onto the clean counter and kissed me deeper. We both moaned into each other's mouths, lost to the others touch. Minutes or hours could have passed and I couldn't say that I cared, except when the telltale odor of burning pastry brought me back to reality.

“The turnovers!”

Jamie grabbed a towel and wrenched the oven door open, a plume of black smoke billowed out. Tears began to make their way down my face as Jamie set the burned lumps of goo in the sink.

“Why did this happen? I followed all the instructions! It's been a disaster from the beginning! The dough too sticky, the filling too runny! I'm a failure in the kitchen!” I wailed, pregnancy hormones taking over rational thought.

“Shhh, a ghraidh. I'm sure we can make more, together. Aye?” I felt his strong, warm hands cup my cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears. I nodded with a sob.

“Good, where's yer wee book? We’ll start over.” He rolled his dress shirt up to the elbows, not bothering to change from his professors uniform.

I pointed to the shelf and he pulled it down, letting me flip to the appropriate page.

Hunched over the counter, I studied the stained notebook as Jamie read,

_‘For the Pastry Filling:_  
_3 tablespoons and ⅓ cup granulated sugar_  
_2 tablespoons butter or margarine_  
_2 large Granny Smith apples peeled, cored, and chopped_  
_1 tablespoon cornstarch_  
_¼ teaspoon fresh lemon juice_  
_1 large egg, beaten_  
_1 cup confectioners’ sugar_  
_2 tablespoons warm water_  
_2 teaspoons light corn syrup_  
_⅓ teaspoon vanilla extract’_

 

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!” I exclaimed, glaring at my notes as Jamie laughed.

“What is it, Sassenach?”

Grabbing my measuring instruments, I handed them to him, his face lighting up in amusement when he noticed my error. The ¼ “teaspoon” was really a ¼ cup measure, as well as everything else being measured in tablespoons.

“Weel, that's a good way to mess up the pie!” he said in wheezing laughter.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You try growing a human and having baby brain then be able to think clearly, Mr. Latin Professor!” I jabbed my finger to his chest with each word.

He laughed harder and squeezed me to him despite my protests. “Claire, it's alright. But it is funny and you know it!”

I smacked his chest, pushing him away from me.

“Go change, then **you** can make the turnovers while **I** watch.”

He dodged another smack and laughed down the hall, “That's probably the safest option!”

I groaned and let head fell onto the countertop with a mild ‘thud.’ Christ I love that man.


	2. Love in an Elevator

_“Shit, shit shit!” I muttered as the lukewarm coffee from both mine and Geillie’s cups spilled down my front_

_“Miss Beauchamp!”_

_“Sorry Ma’am, but the cups spilled. My uniform–”_

_“Clean it up and change. You can’t sit in a puddle of coffee. Shoo!”_

_“Thankyou Mistress Callaghan,” I said convincingly sweet._

_I made a dash for my storage trunk and pulled my comfortable clothes from the bottom of my bag. I hadn’t exactly intended on pulling this stunt today but wanted to be prepared for the proper moment. The standard yellow dress, now a putrid brown, clung to my legs as I made my way down to the lavatory. I took my time rinsing the dress out, washing the coffee from my body and simply enjoying the brief moments out of the scrutiny and boredom of the bookkeeping class._

_“Just a few more weeks, Beauchamp. You can make it that long.” I said to my reflection._

_With a deep breath, I left the bubble of comfort I had created._

_The lift’s small lobby was blissfully quiet. I reached to push the up button, but it was already lit. I stared in confusion at the little red bar. A deep clearing of someone’s throat sounded from behind me causing me to jump. I turned and saw the most beautiful man, and he smiled with a nod of his head._

_“Mistress.”_

_“Good-day,” I murmured. His smiled widened._

_“It is a good day.” He was fidgeting from side to side, his fingers tapping his thigh in a rhythmic cadence._

_The freight lift dinged at the same time the standard lift opened its doors with a bell and rush of people._

_“I’ll just follow ye. Ye seem to ken where it is yer going in this place.”_

_I smiled at him and nodded, requesting the second floor to the operator, while my redheaded companion requested the tenth._

_“They both go to the same place,” I said quickly._

_“I’d hope so.” He smirked._

_“The other just has an extra stop to the basement and underground storage unit.”_

_“Ah weel, good thing I followed you! I didna fancy getting mugged or murdered today.” He joked with a roguish wink. I laughed nervously, concentrating on not spewing words thoughtless back to this man._

_“Second floor, madam.” The elderly attendant said as he opened the double gated doors._

_“Thank-you Jacob.” I turned back to the beautiful man, committing his face to memory._

_“Have a good day!” He said, holding out a hand. I couldn’t speak and blushed rushing for the door to the women’s hall, blushing the entire time._

“Sassenach?”

“Claire?”

“Hmm?” I jolted, turning my head to see concerned blue eyes of my husband searching my own.

“Where did ye go? I thought for a moment ye had fallen asleep but yer eyes were open and ye were twirling a lock of yer hair.”

“Do you remember the day we met?” I whispered ignoring his question, as he lazily drew circles on my protruding stomach. I felt rather than heard his laugh.

“Aye. Ye were so flustered and adorable. I nearly followed you to wherever ye were headed that day. I’m even surprised I have a job after the daze ye left me in.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Surely I didn’t cause that much of an upheaval?”

“Och! But ye did Sassenach. Ye did.” He paused, fingers stilling over my belly button, then quickly pulled me tighter against his chest. “Ye were the most beautiful thing I had ever laid my eyes on. Your hair wild and loose, and yer outfit, Christ! Ye were so brazen in yer pants and sleeveless top, I thought I’d walked into another world.”

“If you knew why I looked that way…” I trailed off shaking my head. “I was in the restroom just before meeting you in the lobby. Coffee had just spilled down my respectable clothes and I had to change into something more comfortable that was in my bag.”

“Ye wee fiend! Ye spilled yer coffee on purpose to change!” His fingers grazed the sensitive side of my ribs and I squealed and tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Yes!” I heaved between laughs, my lungs burning and tears streaming down my face. “Alright, is that what you wanted to hear? I couldn’t stand the pale yellow dress that was required and when Geillie stood up at our desk I hit the desk with my knee causing hers, and my drinks to spill down the front of my dress.”

I could feel Jamie’s smile against my neck as he smothered his laughter in my skin.

“I knew I married a canny one.” His laughs turned into sighs as he nuzzled deeper into my skin. “I canna say that I’m sorry ye tend to break the rules, Sorcha.”

“Oh, why’s that?” I asked, turning my head to try and see him, but getting a face full of unruly, short red curls.

“If ye hadna broken the rules and gone to the lavatory to change, I never would have met ye in that elevator. And I would ne’er change the events of that day.”

I smiled, brought his knuckles to my lips and kissed them. “Nor would I. How did you find me, we never exchanged names, or even said more than a few–embarrassing, on my part– words?”

Jamie shifted so that I was laying on my back and he was propped up on an elbow, looking down at me.

“During my interview with the Latin department, I inquired what was on the second floor of the building.” He leaned down and kissed my temple. “And when they said the women’s institution hall I knew I had to try and find ye again.”

“It didn’t take you long. What? All of three days went by before you were standing outside the lifts with a solitary yellow tulip.”

“Aye, that’s when I finally had the balls to stand there and wait hoping ye’d show yerself.”

I reached up and stroked his cheek and the day’s old stubble that resided there. “I do love you, and can’t tell you how happy I am that you did come to find me that day.”

“I couldna see my life without you. That day ye were babbling and mumbling to me in that lift, I knew ye were it for me.”

“My babbling endeared you. Oh my how I have the greatest ability!” I exaggerated sarcastically laughing as he began tickling my sides.

We twined our bodies together heaving from the laughter. A quick beat of little feet startled us both.

“Seems like he likes his parents happy,” Jamie whispered, as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Mmm, she wants us to settle down. It is her nap time after all.”

Jamie bent down, caressing my now exposed stomach. “Shh wee one. We’ll calm down now. Go sleep and become strong so that ye can join us in the world verra soon. Tha gaol agam ort, mo chridhe.” He finished this with a kiss to my stomach, followed by a kiss on my lips.

“I never thought I’d say I can thank my happiness to spilled coffee and a lift, but I’m glad that I can.”

**Author's Note:**

> the turnover filling is part of a recipe and I recently used this for an apple pie filling, very very satisfying!


End file.
